Stealing Jake (7 page)

He hooked a thumb toward the door. “You keep this bolted, don’t you?”

“Yep.” McIver glanced around. “That’s funny. What happened to the lock?”

Jake viewed the snow-covered landscape, unmarred by footprints or any evidence that would shed light on who’d broken into the mercantile. “You got a shovel, Sam?”

“Of course.”

The shopkeeper disappeared and came back moments later, a spade in one hand and a curious glint in his eyes. “What’re you gonna do?”

Jake palmed the shovel and stepped outside. “Well, it’s not much to go on, but it’s all we’ve got right now. I figure we got about twelve inches of snow last night. If I can find that lock, I might be able to tell what time the thieves broke in.”

“Good idea. A big shipment came in yesterday, and Gus and the boys brought everything up from the train station. As many trips as we made, yesterday’s snow should be packed solid.” McIver leaned against the doorjamb and watched for a moment. “You need any help? I can call the boys.”

“Nah, too much tramping around would defeat the purpose.” Jake carefully peeled an inch-thick layer off the surface of the snow and tossed it to the side.

“Right. I didn’t think of that.”

The tinkling of the bell drew McIver away to attend to his first customer of the day.

Jake worked in silence, carefully shoveling a narrow strip in a semicircle about eight feet from the storeroom, working his way from the outside in. As McIver suspected, the virgin snow played out about ten inches below the surface when he’d cleared the perimeter, revealing the hardpack from the day before. He moved closer to the door and started another round.

Twenty minutes later, he found the padlock. It lay cocooned about four inches below the surface. He calculated what time the robbery could have taken place. It had started snowing about dusk and snowed throughout the night.

“Find anything?” McIver asked from the doorway.

“Yep. There’s the lock.” He jabbed at it with the shovel. “I’d say the robbery took place around two o’clock. Not that it’ll help us catch the thief, but at least it’s good information to know when we have a suspect.”

The bell chimed again just as Jake palmed the cold steel.

“Sam.”

McIver turned back. “Yeah?”

“It’s not broken.” Jake pushed his hat back.

The shopkeeper swore. “Let me see that.”

“Did you lock up at closing time?”

“Like I said, a big delivery came in from Chicago. You can tell by the looks of the storeroom.” McIver frowned. “It was getting late and had already started snowing by the time we got it all inside. Will had been ill as a hornet and itching to go somewhere all day. I closed up the front but don’t remember checking the back. But the boys and Gus know to take care of things.”

The bell tinkled again.

Jake waved McIver away. “Go on. There’s nothing else we can do here. I’ll talk to Gus and the boys and see what I can find out.”

McIver hurried in to take care of his customers.

Jake left the shovel propped against the wall and crunched around to the front of the building. The McIver boys had worked up a sweat clearing the boardwalk. All along the street, other business owners were busy doing the same.

“Will, can I talk to you and Abner?”

Jake stopped short of calling Will a boy. The young feller had shot up so much in the last year, he’d pass for a grown man except for the scraggly tuft of whiskers on his chin.

Will propped himself on his spade, as sullen as before. “I reckon.”

“What do you remember about closing time yesterday?”

“Don’t remember nuthin’. We helped Pa unload a whole trainload of junk; then I left.”

“Did you leave the door unlatched?”

“I left before they got through.” He shrugged and went back to work. “Don’t know what happened after that.”

Jake looked at the younger boy. “Abner, what about you?”

“I thought Will or Gus took care of everything.” Abner’s eyes grew wide. “Pa’ll have our hides if we forgot and someone broke in.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t your fault.” Jake slapped the boy on the back. “Besides, even if you forgot, nobody would know. They’d have to be planning to break in and get lucky. See?”

Abner frowned. “Yeah, Mr. Jake, but there ain’t no need in making it easy for them, now is there?”

Jake laughed. “I reckon you’re right—”

“Abner McIver, do not say
ain’t
.”

Jake turned to see Lavinia MacKinnion sweeping toward them, her hawkish face ensconced in a black scarf, a black cloak billowing behind her like the wings of a giant bat.

“Yes, ma’am.” Abner stepped to the side of the boardwalk, giving the teacher a wide berth.

She smiled at Jake, but it only made her cheekbones more prominent. Jake winced. Lavinia made no secret she’d set her cap for him. “Good morning, Jake.”

“Morning, Lavinia. How’s your pa?” Jake weighed his words with care. One misstep and Lavinia would have him committed to Sunday dinner or a taffy pull or some other such nonsense in a heartbeat.

A shadow crossed her face. “Still grieving, but he’s doing better. Thank you for asking.”

“I don’t want to keep you.” He stepped aside to give her room to pass. “I’m sure you have a busy day.”

He didn’t mean to be rude, but he didn’t want to get ensnared in Lavinia’s schemes. And he didn’t want to wake up to her the rest of his life either. Now, Livy O’Brien in the mornings might be a different story. Just the thought of waking up with Livy produced a wave of longing he’d never had for another woman.

“I do need to hurry. The children will be arriving soon. Abner, don’t be late for school.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Abner hung his head and shuffled toward the store.

Jake bit back a smile. Abner looked less than thrilled about the prospect of spending the rest of the day with the teacher as well.

* * *

Livy hurried toward the mercantile, mentally reviewing the list of items Mrs. Brooks wanted. She sidestepped a patch of ice, then grabbed her skirts in one hand to ascend the steps to the boardwalk. Her heart skipped a beat when she spotted Jake talking to a tall, slender woman dressed in a black cloak. She couldn’t see the woman’s face, but her height complemented Jake’s broad shoulders.

Jake helped the woman down the steps, his gaze following her as she crossed the street and headed toward the train station. An unexpected pang of longing caught Livy by surprise. Did Jake ever watch her out of sight like that? She shook her head, banishing the question as quickly as it surfaced. Her mind conjured up the strangest notions. She didn’t want a husband or the family that came with one. She’d committed herself to saving orphans, not marrying and throwing more children on the mercy of society.

Jake started her way, his head down, hat obscuring his vision. Panic coursed through her. He’d see her if he kept on track. Should she stay on the narrow boardwalk or duck into one of the stores? Her choices were the gunsmith’s or the barbershop. Not having business in either establishment, she stayed glued to the spot.

Just as he reached her, he glanced up. A slow smile filtered across his face, leaving Livy slightly weak in the knees.

“Livy.”

Her name rolled off his tongue like a caress. Over his shoulder, she spotted the woman in black hurrying away in the opposite direction. She fingered her basket, irritated. He should save his smiles for the willowy woman in black. “Good morning, Jake.”

“Where’re you off to this early?”

“To the mercantile. Mrs. Brooks needed me to pick up a few things for her. I also want a bit more yarn.”

“I don’t think you’re going to find McIver in his usual friendly mood.” Jake glanced at the mercantile.

“Really? What makes you say that?”

“Somebody broke in to the store last night and stole an expensive pocket watch and a skinning knife, among other things.”

“Oh no.” Livy frowned, the woman in black pushed to the back of her mind.

“Sam think it’s that riffraff from Chicago.”

Livy’s heart skipped. The merchants wouldn’t stand for much of this. “What do you think?”

“I don’t know. But it’s my job to find out.”

“Be careful, Jake.”

A tiny smile quirked up one side of his mouth, and he reached out and squeezed her elbow. Such an innocent touch, but one she felt to the tips of her toes. “I will.”

Jake tipped his hat and strode away, his boots loud on the boards. Livy turned toward the mercantile and frowned. Why would the children take a watch? She could understand the skinning knife, but a timepiece? They might be intending to sell the goods, but where? She thought back to the day they’d picked Jake’s pocket. They’d taken a risk pilfering something that wasn’t purely for survival. Street kids would filch food and clothing to stay alive, but their code of ethics demanded they not steal for profit. They had their pride, tattered though it might be. And as long as they stayed out of sight and out of mind, upstanding citizens ignored them. Most of the time, anyway.

Livy made up her mind. Until now, she’d respected the boys’ fear of exposing themselves to those in authority or coming to the orphanage for help. She well understood the consequences that might befall a street urchin if he or she fell into the wrong hands.

But no more.

She’d seek out those boys and find out why they’d risk the wrath of the local merchants, and the law, by doing something so foolish.

Chapter Six

Tucked away at the base of a hillside on the outskirts of town, surrounded by cedars and cocooned in several inches of snow, Gus Jones’s cabin looked downright cozy. But Jake knew better. The rickety structure could collapse at any time. Sheriff Carter had tried repeatedly to get the old man to move into town, afraid they’d come out one morning and find him buried under the remains of the shack.

But Gus refused. Said the cabin with its lean-to was all he and Little Bit owned.

Jake heard the humming before he dismounted and tied his horse to a low-lying tree limb. Another Christmas carol.

“Hello, the house?”

The humming stopped, and silence descended. But Gus didn’t answer his call or come to the door.

“Gus, it’s me. Jake. I need to talk to you.”

After what seemed like an eternity, the door creaked open, and Gus squinted out through the sliver of a crack. “Mr. Jake?”

“Morning, Gus.” Jake smiled to put the old feller more at ease. A two-day-old colt couldn’t be more skittish. But Gus had a right to be cautious. Not much more than five feet tall, he’d been the brunt of more than one mean-spirited joke in his sixty-odd years. “Mind if I come in?”

A look of surprise jumped across Gus’s face, and Jake brought himself up short. He stopped by to check on Gus often, but he’d never once invited himself inside. A shy smile replaced Gus’s confusion, and the door eased completely open.

Jake stepped inside the doorway and swept his eyes across the room, taking in every aspect of the man’s abode. He didn’t know what he’d expected to find inside Gus’s cabin, but it wasn’t this. A cheery fire burned in the fireplace, keeping the one-room dwelling toasty. A small table and single chair sat to the left of the fireplace, while a cot, neatly made up with a patched and fading quilt, took up most of the opposite wall. Rough lumber shelves held a few canned goods and other odds and ends. All in all, the place looked as clean as Jake’s mother’s house, if a good bit smaller.

Swinging his gaze toward Gus, Jake found the old man grinning from ear to ear, his hands on top of the straight-back chair. He pushed the chair forward. “Sit here, Mr. Jake.”

Jake wanted to refuse, seeing as Gus only owned one chair, but he didn’t want to offend his host. He took off his hat, placed it on the table, and eased down onto the rickety chair. Gus started humming and bustled over to the fireplace to pour a cup of coffee from a battered pot. He shuffled the few feet back to the table and offered the brew. A lump formed in Jake’s throat as he accepted the mug. “Thanks, Gus.”

Gus hummed as Jake sipped his coffee, surprised to find it good, if a tad weak. He didn’t know how to broach the subject of the robbery. Gus seemed to be beside himself with joy over having a visitor. Jake didn’t want to destroy the old man’s happiness.

“How’s Little Bit, Gus?”

Gus hurried over to a shuttered window between the fireplace and the bed. He opened the window and whistled. Little Bit brayed and poked her head through the opening. Gus scratched her between the ears and she butted against his chest.

Jake laughed. “Well, at least you know she’s okay, since she’s right here.”

Gus grinned his shy smile again and pointed to the fireplace and the lean-to at the back of the cabin. “And she’s warm.”

“That she is.” Jake eyed the setup. “That’s a good idea, Gus. To use the heat from the back of the fireplace for Little Bit’s lean-to. Where’d you come up with that?”

The man scratched his scraggly beard and shrugged. “I dunno. It just happened.”

“Well, it’s a good thing, no matter.” Jake stood and scratched the donkey behind her ear. “Gus, I need to ask you something. Yesterday, you helped Mr. McIver out at the mercantile, didn’t you?”

Gus nodded.

“Do you remember if you locked up the storeroom at the end of the day?”

“I don’t remember.” Gus screwed up his face in concentration. “Maybe Will did, but he was in a bad mood yesterday.”

“I know. McIver told me.”

“He told you? Why would he do that?”

“Somebody robbed the mercantile last night.”

Gus’s face went pale, and he backed away. “I didn’t do it, Mr. Jake. I didn’t steal nuthin’.” When the backs of his knees hit the cot, he plopped down, his gaze riveted on Jake.

Jake held out a hand, palm up. “It’s okay, Gus. I don’t think you did anything wrong.”

Gus shook his head, his eyes big and filled with fear. “I don’t want to go to jail, Mr. Jake.”

“You’re not going to jail. Everything’s fine.”

“Are you sure?” Gus eyed him as if he’d suddenly grown two heads.

“I’m sure. There’s nothing to worry about. I just wondered if you’d seen anything or knew who might have locked up.”